Anguished Labors

 

"A near horizon whose sharp jags 
 Cut brutally into a sky
 Of leaden heaviness, and crags
 Of houses lift their masonry
 Ugly and foul, and chimneys lie
 And snort, outlined against the gray
 Of lowhung cloud. I hear the sigh
 The goaded city gives, not day
 Nor night can ease her heart, her anguished labours stay."
Amy Lowell, New York at Night